


Heavy the Head

by RobinTrigue



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/F, Hate Sex, PWP, Period Sex, episode tag NXT 5th Feb 2020, gay flirting, implied trauma recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:48:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23550340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinTrigue/pseuds/RobinTrigue
Summary: Rhea and Charlotte get it on
Relationships: Charlotte/Rhea Ripley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Heavy the Head

Full Sail was smaller than Charlotte remembered it. She had definitely grown. Stepping into that ring it felt like she was stepping past the ghost of her younger self; she hadn’t thought of herself as nervous at the time, but now that weight had been lifted it was obvious.

And the girls here – it made Charlotte want to laugh. Acting like big fish in this small pond. Like because they could fight everybody in developmental, that makes them good at fighting. It was cute how puffed themselves up next to her, some with eyes full of hope, some with their chins jutting out like they wanted to cause trouble on the playground.

Rhea, though. Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. It was a small pond, but Rhea was a real one. She could tell.

Charlotte licked her lips.

Rhea cracked her neck.

After the fight, Charlotte ducked between two piles of equipment, among the many shadowy corners of Full Sail that everyone learnt in their first week. She juggled the ice pack in one hand until its position was right to press against the elbow that had taken her fall; can’t have it bruise if she’s going to be holding down Raw next week.

“Shit.”

“Got a problem, eh, your majesty?” came Rhea’s drawl.

“Yes, with you.” Charlotte turned to face Rhea, finding her only inches away, arms crossed.

“Yeah, I bet,” Rhea said, then she stepped forward and kissed her.

Rhea kissed hard, and Charlotte pushed back against her – lips to lips, tongue to tongue – but winced when Rhea’s mouth found where Charlotte had bitten her cheek. Charlotte could feel Rhea silently chuckle, warm huffs of breath passing between them. The NXT champ pulled back, wiping a smear of blood across her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I think you should come back to my place.”

“And why would I do that?” Charlotte asked, unable to tear her eyes off the red smear illuminating Rhea’s lips.

Rhea pushed her back again, bodies rubbing together as Charlotte was jostled against the wall. Her ice pack dropped to the ground. It didn’t really matter if her arm bruised, actually.

“Because,” Rhea breathed, “I like the way you taste.”

The taxi ride over was interminable. Rhea’s hand had started on Charlotte’s knee, but soon strayed: higher, then higher, then creeping inwards on her thigh. Charlotte had moved her own hand to stop her, but somehow wound up holding Rhea instead. Their fingers twined together, and she could feel every twitch of the tendons in Rhea’s hand as she explored, stroked, and caressed. She bit her lip.

Rhea’s apartment was messy, dark, and narrow. Charlotte had to turn on the lights herself to avoid tripping over the pile of boots in the middle of the entrance. Rhea simply added to it as she pushed past, throwing her jacket onto a piece of furniture that might have been a couch.

The bedroom itself would have been dark if the blinds had been closed, but as it was everything was orange and white, and Rhea was silhouetted as she faced the door, toeing off her socks. The way her hair fell in the dim made Charlotte’s breath catch.

“So you really think you’re something, huh?” she said, dropping her shirt to the floor.

“I know I’m something,” Charlotte replied. Rhea stepped forwards, fisting a hand in Charlotte’s hair so she had to look up, green eyes locking on grey. “You’re just trying to be me,” she mumbled into the soft plane of Rhea’s abdomen, not really hearing her own voice.

Somehow, all of Rhea’s clothes came off but Charlotte only lost her shirt and one boot; she was holding Rhea close, running her tongue and teeth over a nipple while her fingers stroked at the short, dark curls between her legs. Rhea was trying to maintain tight control, but Charlotte watched thirstily as every so often, she was able to evoke a twitch or a gasp from the Australian. Her greatest prize came when she dipped her head down, bending herself in half to dip her tongue into Rhea’s salty fluids. It made one of her knees buckle, and when she grabbed Charlotte’s head to drag her to standing, Charlotte let herself be dragged.

“I think you came to NXT ‘cause you’re trying to get on my level,” Rhea panted. Charlotte wasn’t listening, she was too busy working her tongue behind Rhea’s ear and enjoying the way Rhea’s back twitched under her fingers. The grip on her hair became tighter and tighter until the two of them broke apart. Rhea shoved Charlotte back onto the bed, pouncing like a cat.

Charlotte quickly shoved a hand into her jeans as Rhea pulled them down, tugging out her tampon. “Trash can?” she asked, wrapping it in the pantyliner.

“By the nightstand,” Rhea said, and before Charlotte had even settled back on the bed, Rhea was pinning her down with stained fingers in her pussy.

It was a blur; Charlotte wasn’t clear whether she was pulling Rhea closer or pushing her away as she writhed under her hands. Then, suddenly, they were wrestling, and it was exactly like in the ring just as much as it was exactly the opposite: Charlotte could feel the two of them moving on instinct, eyes locked together as their bodies rolled over and over, nearly off the bed. Except wrestling was real, and no matter how many times Charlotte kicked out of this pin, she was secretly hoping to lose. Rhea’s hands were digging into Charlotte’s thighs, pressing painfully into muscle, but Charlotte had her on her back and was rewarded with a shower of Australian curses as she ran her tongue up Rhea’s abdomen. She grinned, and lowered her head for another pass. Rhea made such a beautiful picture there, eyes soft, body striped by the slatted light from outside.

But when Rhea rolled them over, old blood smearing on Charlotte’s arm, she was too tangled in the bedsheets and her own jeans to retaliate, and she was able to simply lay there while Rhea’s mouth moved lower and lower on her body.

Charlotte saw fucking stars. It was all she could do to cling to the mattress and gasp.

Rhea’s smirk and glittering eyes when she glanced up only made matters worse. Charlotte didn’t want to admit how much she wanted this, it was a professional interest _only,_ but that was hard when Rhea’s tawny hair framed her smeared mouth, and the things she was doing with her tongue. Charlotte couldn’t hold back her moans anymore when Rhea slipped her fingers in, at first out of sync but then in tandem with her lips as she sucked at Charlotte’s clit, cresting her higher and higher until she crashed back down to earth, thrashing and yelling.

Rhea grinned smugly, extracting herself from Charlotte’s throbbing pussy and wiping her fingers on her inner thigh. She crawled up the bed and gave the blonde a slow, coppery kiss; Charlotte was embarrassed by how good it felt, how good Rhea tasted. The post-orgasm exhaustion was hitting her, and the soreness from today’s earlier match, and all she wanted to do was lie here forever, on her rival’s warm, tough arm, kissing her handsome face deeply.

Gradually coming around, she let a hand drag itself from the mattress over Rhea’s hip and firm abdomen, only to find her shaking. She opened her eyes.

Rhea wasn’t looking at Charlotte anymore. Her head was twisted to the side, half-buried in the pillow they’d thrown askew, and a hand in her mouth to stifle the sound of her crying.

Charlotte sat up.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Rhea whispered, half choking on her sobs.

Charlotte swallowed the first thing she was going to say, then the second. “I won’t,” she replied finally.

Gingerly, she reached out to pat Rhea’s shoulder, hand eventually drifting upwards to rest on the back of her neck where the stubble was short and strong. It was an uncomfortable wait while Rhea hiccoughed, pausing to catch her breath for a moment before descending back into tears.

“This isn’t you,” Rhea whispered eventually, during a lull. “It always happens.”

Charlotte didn’t know what to say.

At some point, Rhea stopped crying and splashed water on her face. Charlotte pulled her jeans back on, got her phone to call a cab for herself.

“I want to do this again,” Rhea said, voice back to normal. She was wearing an oversized tee with holes in it, and had her title slung over one shoulder as she leaned against the doorframe.

Charlotte looked at her for a minute, then snorted. “Yeah, maybe when I take that belt off you.”

“If,” Rhea corrected.

Her knuckles were clenched white, which Charlotte pretended not to notice. She also didn’t notice that Rhea didn’t kiss her goodbye, but they probably wouldn’t have kissed goodbye anyway. This wasn’t that kind of hookup.

It would happen again though, Charlotte thought confidently as the humid Florida air rushed to meet her on the street. After Charlotte took that damn title.

**Author's Note:**

> Damn, sure would have been timely if I’d posted this before WM, huh! Anyway, give Bianca all the belts.


End file.
